


you've been crying, i can tell

by tuomniia



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuomniia/pseuds/tuomniia
Summary: They say nothing. A small breath mists from their nose, a sigh, she thinks. They turn away again. The dismissal of her arrival stings more than Ava could have anticipated. She almost, almost prefers that Cameron yell. That they insult her. Dig into her with their teeth. Attempt to draw blood and rend the flesh from her bones. Not that they could, but she wishes they would try.
Relationships: Detective/Ava du Mortain, Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Kudos: 9





	you've been crying, i can tell

“If you’re so worked up, why don’t you just go find them and apologize?” Farah’s exasperated tone forces Ava’s attention away from the darkened sky outside the common room’s window. 

Ava finds herself stiffening in defence, “I have nothing to apologize for.”

Morgan scoffs from her spot in the darkened corner, but she says nothing else.

It’s a lie, and she knows it. So does everyone else in the room.   
  
Ava frowns, attention drawn to Farah when she leans forward in her seat. “You basically called them a useless burden to the team. Which I didn’t appreciate. I actually _like_ Cam.”  
  
The youngest member of Unit Bravo holds none of her usual playfulness in her words. All smiles wiped from her face, her brows were instead knitted together with worry and disapproval. 

“I did not.” Ava growls, curling her lip.

“Not in so many words.” Nat’s voice joins the conversation. She leans casually up against the wall beside Ava. “But I fear that’s what they heard.”  
  
Ava sighs, clenching her teeth together and striding from the room without another word. She had intended to return to her room, to revel in the solitude and silence. To ignore the disapproval of her charge. 

Instead, she finds herself grabbing her coat and walking out the front doors of the warehouse. Leaving the warm, inviting light and into the cold, desolate dark. 

Her breath mists in front of her eyes, and she blinks to warm them. The cold bites at her skin with little remorse. She scans the dark treeline outside the fence and spots fresh tracks in the snow, snaking off between the trees. 

She should go back inside. Should just leave it alone. She did nothing wrong, what she said was the truth. If the detective can’t handle the truth, that isn’t her problem to fix.

She follows the tracks. 

Silence permeates the surrounding darkness. Seeping from between the trunks like ghosts, a presence to be felt but not be seen. Above her, the sky is black and painted with stars. Not a cloud to be seen. No moonlight to guide lesser eyes.

It’s cold now, and it will only get colder without cloud cover to blanket the earth.

She frowns, peering ahead at the tracks she follows. She may be more sensitive to the elements, but at least she is immortal. Cameron is not, they’re human. The cold could kill them. 

She tries to shrug off the sudden uneasiness that nips at her thoughts. It’s unsuccessful. 

Ava is about to run ahead, utilize her heightened speed to find the detective sooner. Before they succumb to the cold. It was her duty to make sure they were safe, after all. It’s just her job. She isn’t concerned for any other reason. 

A noise further ahead makes her steps falter, and she glances up from the blanketed forest floor. 

Whispering. A fluttering heartbeat. She swallows and clenches her teeth. Who else would be out here? Is the detective in danger?  
  
“ _Stop it._ ” The sudden force of the whisper makes her heart trip in her chest as it urges her to rocket forward. It’s desperate.

There. Cameron. The Detective. They’re facing away from Ava, face hidden from view. Their back pressed against the rough bark of a towering pine tree. The size of the conifer dwarfs Cameron. She’s always thought them to be small, nonthreatening. But lithe, quick. Not powerful, but able enough to take on most threats that come to them. But here, now, they’re tiny. Slouched in the dark like a wounded animal. Vulnerable and weak.  
  
In a betrayal of her steadfast resolve to maintain boundaries, both emotional and physical, she wants to pull them close and protect them from the dark and all that it hides.

She is relieved at least to see that they’re alone, and that they grabbed their jacket in their haste to get away from Ava’s cutting words. 

Ava makes to step forward, but her boot crunches in the snow particularly loud and her lips curl with frustration. Offended that the usually silent material would deceive her now, of all times.

She doesn’t want the detective to hear her approach, and will not think about why. Will not think about how they have every right to send her away, after she said what she had to them. That she’s afraid of it. That she’s afraid Cameron will shove her back in anger, and that they’ll become just another human that thinks more of the dirt under their boots. She isn’t afraid of anything, but she still wants to make this right. To maintain a professional relationship, unhindered by hurt feelings. Any feelings at all. That’s it. 

They need to be able to work together.

Her gaze flicks back up from the snow under her feet to Cameron, who is standing rigid and stiff, and is glancing at her from over their shoulder. It’s dark, but their eyes glitter in the lowlight. 

They say nothing. A small breath mists from their nose, a sigh, she thinks. They turn away again. The dismissal of her arrival stings more than Ava could have anticipated. She almost, almost prefers that Cameron yell. That they insult her. Dig into her with their teeth. Attempt to draw blood and rend the flesh from her bones. Not that they could, but she wishes they would try. 

She dismisses the wish as the detective had dismissed her. It is not worth the energy. She crinkles her nose, irritated at the fickle emotions that keep demanding her attention.

Still positioned behind the detective’s back, she wishes she could see their face. Read their expression. Assess the damage. To begin to know how to make amends. 

“It’s too cold for you to be out here.” Ava starts, swallowing back the sudden onset of nerves. She fears nothing. She should not be feeling anxiety about clearing up a misunderstanding. “You should join us inside, where it’s warm. I’m not feeling keen on the idea of dragging back a frozen corpse.” 

Cameron’s silence drags on, but she knows they heard her because their head tilts faintly. Their eyes are ahead of them, fixated on the dark between the trees. 

“You go.” They start, their usually smooth voice is tight. “I’ll join you guys in a bit.” 

Ava frowns at the ousting, shifts her weight. It is not out of awkwardness. It’s a feeling much deeper than the fleeting sensations of awkwardness. It … It aches.

“I would like to accompany you back, to assure your safety.” She continues, the gentleness of her words surprising her. She had meant for it to be more of a command, but Cameron- the detective- always manages to draw forth this hidden side of her. One she usually reserves for her unit. But even then, it’s not like this.

Cameron sighs and tilts their head back to look up. Resting against the frosting bark of the massive pine that makes them seem so fragile. Throat bared carelessly to the world while they stare up at the stars above. She can see their carotid artery pulsing rhythmically under the delicate skin of their neck. 

She forces herself to look elsewhere, scolding herself for staring. For wanting.

“Ava.” She’s been silent too long. They both have. “I’m fine. Please, just. Leave me alone.” 

She opens her mouth to reply, then closes it again with such force that her teeth click. It’s loud in the muffled silence of the snowy forest around them.

She doesn’t move. As though the cold has frozen her to the spot, but she knows it’s Cameron. The way their shoulders curve against the temperature, against the hurt. Against her. 

They glance to her again, and she draws a sharp breath. Even in the weak starlight, it’s enough to see their eyes are too bright. Heavy with tears that haven’t yet spilled over. 

A powerful wave of guilt barrels into her stomach, her chest, and almost knocks her breathless. 

_I did this_ , she thinks. Knows. 

Cameron looks away and Ava is almost thankful for it, because now she doesn’t have to notice how Cameron’s ever present smirk is gone. The still damp tracks down their cheeks, frosting in the freezing temperature. 

There had been a time, once, when she wondered if Cameron felt anything but humour towards any given situation. No matter the circumstances, they always had a lighthearted quip. Had been thoroughly vexed by it. Could they take nothing seriously? 

“ _Please_ go.” 

The gentle insistence hits Ava like a well aimed kick to her chest, just when she’s managed to recover from the last tide of guilt.

She doesn’t feel that way anymore. That Cameron is nothing but jests and puns. It’s still a mystery to her, but there is more. Of that she is certain. Catching glimpses of it when they’re pulled too taut. When they think no one is watching. Hears it when they’re trying to sleep in their room, their heart so thunderous in a sea fear and adrenaline that the scent of it oozes menacingly through the walls. A beast that threatens no one but the detective.

Ava should leave. 

“I can’t.” The words leave her breathlessly, though she can’t say why. They left her mouth of their own volition. “I won’t.” 

“Ava.” They groan, “you’ve done enough.” 

Their voice, still hoarse with emotion, catches on her name. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

“Oh really? Figure that out all by yourself, did you?” They snap back at her, words sharp. Raw from the cut of her own actions. The salt of it stings her.

Cameron has always been sarcastic, but is seldom unkind. Perhaps she deserved this edge. To be cut in return, to bleed red into the pure snow instead of the detective. She has hundreds of years worth of armour built up. Cameron does not.

They tense at their own words, sucking in a sharp breath and releasing it slowly. 

“I’m sorry.” The murmur immediately, their tone gentle. 

She wonders how the words left them so easily. How they could forego their pride and simply apologize as though it were nothing. Something she had struggled with for as long as she could remember. The very thing that had led her out here, to them. The thing that had led them both here.

“What do you have to be sorry about?” 

Cameron breathes a laugh as though she’s said something funny, but she can’t put her finger on what that is. There is no humour in the sound. The heat of their breath mists impressively and glitters in the dark.

“Oh. A lot.” They shrug, stepping sideways to allow Ava room to lean on the tree as well. “But mostly for what I just said. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Ava frowns and steps forward. Is careful as she joins the detective by their side. She shouldn’t touch them. She doesn’t deserve to, now more than ever before. But she wants to.

“I-“ she starts, words catching in her throat. She clears it, and starts over. “I didn’t mean what I said to you. You are. A valuable addition to our team.” 

Cameron doesn’t move for an agonizingly long moment. Expressionless and staring off into the sea of blacks and blues around them, Ava wonders momentarily if she had only thought the amendment. Then she scowls to herself, she is a lot of things and uncertain is not one of them.

“Maybe you’re right.” They murmur after the long silence. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here.” 

Her fingers itch almost unbearably to touch Cameron’s shoulder. Feel their curve under her palm. Offer reassurance. She doesn’t. “Nonsense. Without you, we would not have apprehended Murphy.”

“You’ve fought against me being here the whole way. You don’t need to start pretending now. It’s fine. I get it. I’m just a human. An inconvenience for you to look after. Another detail of the job you didn’t ask for.” 

Their tone is light. Airy. As though this was not a new thought, or even a painful one. Just a fact they had accepted and is learning how to take it in stride. The realization settles over her, thick and heavy as the surrounding snow.

“You are not an inconvenience for me.” She assures, trying to put as much weight into her words as possible. They must believe her. “For any of us.”

Cameron abruptly turns their head away, their breath shuddering. A horrible, grating sound in her ears. She finds her hand has left her pocket and is reaching towards them before she can even think not to. 

She shoves her hand forcefully back into her coat and wills it to stay there. 

Cameron sniffs, the sound muffled into the collar of their coat. 

Frost glitters on their shoulders and in their hair, which has fallen from its usual ponytail and rests gently against their neck. Even in the weak light, its red hues catch fire. Glinting like dying embers, a stark contrast to the surrounding ice. 

“It’s fine, Ava. You don’t need to lie. I can handle it.” They sigh eventually, though their voice wobbles with uncertainty. 

Ava has to close her eyes against the tide of emotion the sound of it evokes. 

“I’m not lying to you. I was- I was caught up in the heat of argument.” She opens her eyes again to find Cameron watching her. “I said things I didn’t really- things that are no longer true. Things that could never be true again.” 

Cameron’s tightly controlled expression doesn’t change, but a tear finally escapes and slides slowly down their cheek. Glinting in the starlight. Ava watches it fall and get trapped in the fibres of the detective’s collar. 

They don’t believe her.

“Please just. Let me be alone for a bit. Okay?” 

Ava stiffens, glancing around at the pressing darkness. “It’s not safe.” 

“I won’t go any farther. And I’ll come back soon.” They reach out and place a hand on Ava’s arm. She swallows, glancing down at the touch with uncertainty. 

She doesn’t feel right, leaving them here when they’re clearly in pain. Not when she inflicted the wounds that they’re trying to nurse. But she knows she can’t just undo the damage she inflicted.

The touch gives her hope though, that she may be forgiven. In time. 

“Who were you speaking to, earlier?” Ava asks, allowing her gaze to travel up the detective’s arm and back to their face. 

They stiffen and withdraw their hand. “You heard that?- no. Wait. Of course you did. Super hearing.” They sigh heavily, “you vampires are so annoying like that.”

Ava allows herself a small smile, glad to see the return of her detectives- the detective’s humour. If only slight.

“No one. I was talking to myself.” 

Ava’s smile fades and is replaced with a frown. She wants to know more, but it would be pressing her luck when the detective is so clearly trying to remain patient. Asking her once more to leave them alone, their voice tired. Heavy with what Ava has now identified as defeat. 

She watches another tear form in Cameron’s eye and start its slow descent, following the frosted track of the last tear. Their expression remains free of emotion though, a carefully maintained mask. 

Ava nods, and means to step back. To turn around and head home. 

She steps forward instead. Just for a moment, just to lift her hand slowly to the detective’s face and use her thumb to gently brush away the tear. Their skin is warm under her touch, despite the frigid air. Soft, and forgiving. 

Cameron’s heart stumbles on its next beat. Or perhaps it is her own heart. She wasn’t paying attention enough to know. Foolish. She should never drop her guard like this. Ava pulls her hand back and steps away. Nodding curtly to Cameron before spinning on her heel and briskly walking back the way she came.   
  
She doesn’t want to see the stars reflected in their eyes. 

In her pocket, she runs her forefinger over her thumb. Still slick with Cameron’s aches and uncertainties. 

Guilt weighs heavily on her shoulders as she walks away, knowing she is the reason the tear had fallen at all. It takes all of her willpower to not turn around and return the gaze she can feel burning between her shoulder blades. But she manages. Barely. 

Experience tells her that this feeling will pass. 

They’ll recover from this.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ tuomniia


End file.
